There are now seven variants of the BMW-built Mini but this is the version
that might change perceptions more than most.

What a relief to give back the keys to a £300,000 Bentley Mulsanne and get behind the wheel of a smaller but no less notable British success story: a humble Mini Coupé.

Not that there’s much that’s humble about a Mini these days: the Oxfordshire plant which turns out BMW’s reincarnation is soaking up Britain’s unemployed with what seems an unquenchable thirst, as demand grows and production lines ramp up their workloads to build the coupé alongside the hatch, convertible, Clubman and Roadster models.

This brash, sporty, two-seater Coupé take on the Mini is worlds apart from BMW’s original Mini One, and an unrecognisable development of Sir Alec Issigonis’s 1959 much-loved little box on wheels, but I think it’s the most successful design yet, showing that BMW has no fear in where it takes the marque, and isn’t afraid to inject a little loving humour into its models.

I’m not so sure about the sporty roof and bonnet stripes on our test car, but that sloping roofline, incongruous rear spoiler and bulging boot look fun. Inside, however, the Coupé’s silhouette translates into a claustrophobic black ceiling (despite the recesses in the lining for heads) that pours down in front of you to meet the windscreen, and there really is nowhere behind the two seats to stash anything.

Still, there are two little disco lights above the rear-view mirror which go through myriad colours as you drive along, so all is forgiven.

The level of standard equipment is high and includes a DAB digital radio, air-con, parking sensors, alloy wheels, leather steering wheel and those racing stripes.

The Coupé starts at £16,640 but bung on some options and you soon reach the £19k price of our model. Still, I’d guessed £21,000-£23,000 for something this snazzy and built by BMW, so was pleasantly surprised.

The turbocharged 1.6-litre petrol engine is a fabulous unit. I averaged 34mpg, not the 48.7mpg quoted, but it was worth the heavy right foot just to hear the exhaust pop on lift-off and to squirt up the road squealing “Wheeeeeee!”. Gear changes are a delight, with a short-shifting lever, and you find yourself throwing the compact chassis into corners just for the sake of it.

I’m not sure about so many of the levers and buttons being sited so far below the driver’s eye line, which means less peripheral vision on the road at all times, and the ride is harsh, but if any car’s going to change my opinion of Mini as a marque driven by Putney estate agents and snooty Fulham blondes, this Coupé is the one.